


Through Her Eyes

by AnRkey_o2



Series: Scars From The Ground [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 07:31:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 6,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11641866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnRkey_o2/pseuds/AnRkey_o2
Summary: So this is a companion piece to 'For My People, And Yours'. It's certain scenes through Lexa's perspective, mainly because while I'm writing out Clarke's story i keep thinking about what's going through Lexa's head.I'd suggest reading my main work first because it probably doesn't make much sense without that context





	1. Chapter 1

They had told me that she was beautiful. They had said that her hair shone like the midday sun and her eyes were as blue as the sky her people had fallen from. I had thought these things exaggerations, the kind of fantastical definitions often given in legends so that the heroes seemed mightier.

But when they ripped the bag from her head it was almost impossible to keep myself from reacting. The Sky Princess was everything my warriors had been saying and more. Sure she was beautiful, that golden hair was so rare among my people, especially paired with those blue eyes. Her skin was lightly tanned from months in the sun and I could even see the beginnings of tight muscle on her form.

When these intruders had first crashed onto my land I had gotten reports of children; stupid, weak and soft, running around like branwada. But there was an undeniable intelligence behind those pools of blue. And I noticed as she took me in, that she set her jaw in stubborn defiance while I twirled my dagger between my fingers.

So I asked her name, even though I knew it, and she answered, her voice purposely neutral, nonthreatening. Definitely a smart one. But there was something else about her... something that I couldn't describe, something that reminded me of myself only a few short years ago.

In that instant, even while our talk grew in intensity, even as our anger leeched into our words, my plans changed. I couldn't wipe the Skaikru out, I didn't want to kill her either... I would have to find another way...

 


	2. Chapter 2

Meetings. It's always meetings. For three and a half days that's all I've been doing. Titus has parading person after person in front of me to give testament to the many crimes that Skaikru has committed... I shouldn't have told him that I wanted to keep them alive.

If it's not the witnesses then it's my warriors, the leaders of the villages. I lay out plans with them, send their warriors into different positions, authorize scouting parties, send them in circles around each other so that they can't decide on the best strategy... That used to be fun, but after nearly three years, the game had lost it's appeal.

I was just about to interrupt yet another of Titus' ridiculous rants about upholding a century of tradition, when someone else did it for me. The doors flew open and a slim man, just out of boyhood, covered in blood and sweat, stumbled into the room. It was only thanks to years of practice and discipline that I didn't laugh (sometimes I wondered if Titus would explode were I to be myself) when he scrambled frantically to regain his footing.

My amusement was quickly forgotten when he started to relay his information. The Mountain had found his unit, and were planning to fire a missile at the closest village to where they had been discovered. The only other surviving gona had gone to warn the village, but I knew there wouldn't be enough time to evacuate.

A vice like grip settled over my heart as I blinked slowly. All those people would likely die tonight. I wanted nothing more than to mount Trikova and race to the village, but more then likely I wouldn't make it in time. And if by some miracle I did, then the chances are I would just be caught in the explosion too and that would leave my people without their Heda.

As much as it pained me, the best course of action was also the most ruthless. I had to do nothing. So, steeling myself, I thanked my warrior and sent him off to find a healer. Then I resumed my meeting as though nothing had happened, rage boiling deep inside me.

One day the Mountain would pay, until then I had to do what was best for my people.

 


	3. Chapter 3

It was mid-afternoon before I finally got the chance to sneak out. I left my armor in my room, instead slipping into a long hooded cloak. The tricky part was getting to the stairwell before finished lecturing the Natblidas, but I managed, taking them two at a time in my excitement.

I avoided the main entrance of the tower and instead sped into the tunnels that extended from the basement, surfacing behind a leather stall in the market place. The owner was a wizened old woman, used to my unannounced appearances, and she gave me a smile and slightly exasperated shake of the head. I winked before slipping into the crowd.

Being able to blend in was something of a novelty for me and I couldn't help but smile wide as I weaved through the mass of people. They were all going about their lives; their joyful, _normal_ lives. I envied them, but just being able to move anonymously among them helps me feel like one of them again.

This, the freedom for my people to enjoy a day at the market, was why I sat through long, boring, tedious meetings, why I fought and bled on battlefields.

I watched them as I slowly picked my way back toward the tower. There were children running around stealing items, swapping with each other before trying to return them again. Big burly men were standing around a large barrel, laughing and drinking. A blacksmith was showing a teenage girl a set of throwing knives. And Clarke was-

Clarke?

Quick as lightening I ducked into a shadow, looking back at the retreating figure. It was a woman wearing a dark hooded cloak, one arm held to her chest, the other hand clasped firmly in the hand of a small girl. It was impossible to tell from this angle but... but I was sure I had seen her unmistakably golden hair.

So I followed her, staying out of sight as much as possible. Once we'd broken out of the marketplace I sped through the side-streets, wanting to cut her off. But before she reached me, she stopped, the children she had been with all hugged her before heading into one of the dwellings. It didn't add up, what was she doing here?

When she turned around I raced forward with light steps and reached her just in time to pull her into an alleyway, pushing her roughly against the wall. Spirits, she was beautiful...

 


	4. Chapter 4

The sun was starting to set when I finally got away from my duties, which wouldn't be saying much if it wasn't the peak of summer. The days were always scorching hot and long. I knew that if I was going to be with Clarke, then I had to make sure my people were taken care of before indulging, but it didn't stop me from wishing I was with her.

I stopped in my rooms, deciding against a bath and instead rubbing scented oil into my skin and redoing my braids. I moved quickly, but even that seemed to take too long. Finally I was outside Clarke's door. I knocked softly but when there was no answer I opened the door, quietly slipping into the room.

I found the blonde curled up on the bed, her bad arm tucked awkwardly under her body, her braided hair catching the dying sunlight and seeming to catch fire as it glowed. In her hand she loosely held the picture she had drawn, the picture of me, of things no one had ever seen in me before. Well, maybe one other...

To my surprise, I smiled. Costia and Clarke were very similar and yet fiercely different. Both had hearts of gold, wanting to save everyone, to live peacefully. Both had a quiet intelligence about them, something that most people would easily dismiss. And both were incomparably beautiful; Costia with her fiery red mane, Clarke with her calculating blue gaze...

But Clarke was something Costia had not been, Clarke was a leader. I could see it in her. A fire, a determination that couldn't be taught. Her sense of duty, her refusal to run and hide. She was born for this, just like I was.

I sat on the end of the bed, content to sit and wait for her to wake up, despite my earlier eagerness. Maybe it could happen again, maybe Titus had been wrong...

Because this was a woman who loved with everything she had and it only seemed to make her stronger, push her further. She wore it like a suit of armor and time after time the blows just grazed right off her. How could love be weakness when there was living proof right here that it didn't have to be?

I was terrified for a moment as I looked at the peaceful expression on Clarke's face. My mind had fallen into a realization without me noticing.

At some point I had fallen in love with the SkaiPrisa...

 


	5. Chapter 5

I had seen so many similar scenes that I could nearly predict where each body would be laying. I had walked into countless villages after the Maunon had attacked, it never got any easier. To her credit, Clarke was handling the tragedy with more grace than I had mustered my first time. Still, she now looked around the camp with cold eyes, more akin to steel than the sky.

I let my mask fall, let Heda melt away as I put my hand on her shoulder. I wanted to see sky again and that would never happen if I was the Commander in this moment, if I approached this appearing as an opportunity for vengeance.  
“They didn't do this to themselves...” she whispered hoarsely, her voice flat and cold. She wasn't really asking, but I still confirmed her suspicions.  
“No,” I assured her, “they did not.”

I stayed with her as she uncovered each corpse. She crouched beside each one, brushing hair from faces as she whispered names, closing eyes that were left open in fear and pain... I didn't speak. There was nothing I could say, I knew from experience that there was nothing that could wash away the guilt.

Finally we had reached the back of the camp, lifting a fallen log to check beneath it, when she froze. The wood tumbled from her hands, rolling away and I looked over to see a young man, perhaps even younger than Clarke. One look at her face told me all I needed to know.

I swallowed the pang of jealousy that sparked within me and helped Clarke over to the boy, settling beside her as she ran her hands over his face.

“It should have been me,” she rasped out in a broken sob as she leaned over to press a kiss to his temple.

I knew the feeling, I understood the guilt and self-loathing. You wondered what you could have done differently, you ran through countless different scenarios as you tried to convince yourself that you could have changed the outcome. But ultimately there is no way to change the past, you have to use it to strengthen you as you looked to the future.

I reached past Clarke then, knowing that she wouldn't be able to do it for herself, and closed the boys eyes.  
Yu gonplei ste odon.” I said.

It was hard to say goodbye to those you loved.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Spirits, she was beautiful.

That was my first thought as I opened my eyes to find her standing in front of a newly decorated wall, her back to me. On the wall, she had drawn more pictures, faces mostly, writing beneath them in blocked letters. And below them all, because there were a lot of them, there were a few lines set out like a... poem? - at least I think that's what they were called...

I had never learnt to read, it was a skill my people had found pointless a century ago and so it was abandoned in favor of other lessons. But the Spirit of Heda was before that time, and thanks to it, the symbols formed into familiar words in my mind.

I rose soundlessly to my feet and went to stand beside her so that I could read the passage.  
“In peace may you leave the shore,  
In love may you find the next,  
Safe passage on your travels,  
Until our final journey to the ground,  
May we meet again...”

My words faded out as I recognized her parting words to the boy. I found his face among the others, a shooting star by his entry, wispy tail of fire ghosting over the image. It was a memorial, a tribute to all the people she had lost so far, and everyone left for her to save. I knew that I couldn't ease the guilt or banish the pain, but I tried anyway, making promises I had never allowed myself to make before.

 

I looked around as I dressed. The walls were completely covered in a mind-blowing collection of drawings. A few things looked made up, but the majority of them were definitely memories. It was like an unguarded glimpse into her life. I couldn't focus on packing up our camp properly because I was too busy trying to commit it all to memory.

But even though there was an impossible amount of them, the most shocking thing was that I was everywhere. Each picture of me was immaculately detailed. In some I was smiling, in others I was smirking, growling, frowning.

Then my eyes landed on the one by the entrance to the cave, just far enough in the the crashing water wouldn't wash it away. It was me, completely bare, crouched, ready to fight, my knife in my hand. I could see the love that had gone into her work and it made me fall in love with her all over again.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Sometimes, I hate being Heda.

There are the day's when you get to walk into a village and inspire hope within your people. There are days when you reside over a feast, when you get to bless a new baby, or rid a village of a tyrannical leader.

But then there are days like today.

Those days when you have to judge a man's crimes, tell a family why they will never see a loved one again, the days when I have to draw my sword and paint it red...

“I bare it for my people, so that they do not have to. I am strong so that they can afford to be weak.”

It is what I tell myself every time. It used to help. It used to make sense before...

Before I met Clarke

But the Mountain was after Clarke, Clarke and her people. I had to stop them, and even if I couldn't, I had to know why.

I loved her, and I wouldn't lose her the way I had lost Costia. I wouldn't let anything take her from me. And so I let my mask fall firmly into pace, squared my shoulders and walked up to the tree the maunon had been tied to.

“Ron ai ridiyo op, maunon.” my voice was a careful icy hiss.

 


	8. Chapter 8

The water was a pleasant coolness against my heated skin. I needed to cleanse myself even though the blood was never really washed from my skin. But not even the gentle river could keep my thoughts from turning over and over.

He was lying. He had to have been lying. Would I not know if Clarke had been here to kill me? It had to some other sky person, one of Clarke's people that had already been killed or captured. Because it could not be Clarke.

My Clarke...

Though she was acting strange... No one can learn a language that quickly or flawlessly... Even in just the time since we left Polis her body has changed, subtly, but even so. There was a newfound grace behind her movements... He had said the weapon would teach it's vessel.

I hated the doubt in my mind, not being able to say for sure. Did Clarke carry the Spirit of my enemy. And if she did, was she even aware of it. I had to know.

I finished washing and dressed quickly. Then I went into the village, ignoring everything but my destination, the hut Clarke was in. If she carried a Spirit, she would bear a mark just like my own, it was easy enough to prove her innocence. She would bever even have to know I suspected anything.

I opened the door quietly and found her bent over the table. Her hair spilled around her shoulders and flowed down her back and I could not help but smile. Then she groaned in frustration and I let out a low chuckle. My SkyPrisa, she hated sitting still.

I pushed off the door frame when she turned around and greeted me, a slight blush rising to her cheeks at being caught. I swung my leg over her so that I landed in her lap and I pulled her into a kiss.

It was a distraction so that she wouldn't question when two fingers stroked the nape of her neck. If there was a Spirit within her, then I would find a soft, silky scar. When I did not find a scar I was going to ravish her...

My heart stuttered. No... Please, no.

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

The door slammed shut behind her and the sound shattered my heart.

Why would me not wanting to tell her about a murderous Spirit mean that I did not trust her? I am showing Clarke a side of me that I have shared with no one since Costia. Does she not understand how hard it is for me?

Tears welled in my eyes and I was too tired to even feign fighting them off. I let them fall, let the pain bleed into my body and send me to my knees as I choked on sob after sob. I wanted her to be safe, I did not want her to worry about what she might do to me.

Everything had been so perfect by the fire. How had we even started fighting?

A fresh set of tears rolled down my cheeks as I remembered her balled up form on the bed. I had hurt her. I did not mean to, but I should have known that something wasn't right. It was just that when she said that she needed me, something snapped. I want to be needed, and not by my people...

I want someone who needs me as much as I need them. A true equal. I just want Clarke to love me as much as I love her.

But I had messed up. I had tried to take over when her body was screaming for control. I had excused her odd behavior even though I had known something was wrong, just to sate my own lust.

I pushed myself to my feet and pushed my feet into my boots, strapping my sword to my hip as I slipped into the night. I couldn't chase after Clarke, even though every instinct I had told me to find and protect her. No, Clarke was her own woman; smart, capable, strong in every way that counted. It would only make things worse.

The streets were nearly empty at this time, making it easy to get to the training grounds without being seen. But when I got there I saw a lone figure sink to the ground, the moon flashing off golden hair, causing her to glow.

The air fled from my lungs as I saw Clarke lie on the hardened earth. She was always so beautiful, especially when no one was looking. My people would sing stories of the Princess who fell from the sky, and in them she would be as beautiful as any god. They would tell of every horrible act the Skaikru had committed as her own personal triumphs, paint her as a terrible demon...

But she was not that. Even though I knew what lurked beneath the surface, I was convinced that she did not. I would keep my Sky Princess safe, even from my own people.

I do not know how long I stood there watching her fall into a deep sleep, but I eventually turned on my heel and went to bed myself. I would respect her space until she was willing to come back to me.

 


	10. Chapter 10

I did not know... If I had known- but no, had I known what was to happen, I still would not have told her. Clarke is strong, of that I have no doubt, but I would bare the burden of the knowledge for her if I could.

When the maunon said it was a weapon, I did not even dream that it would use her body to complete its mission. I thought perhaps it would turn her against me, it would show her the memories of the woman whose Spirit she held and then Clarke would chose her side. But that was not Clarke who had attacked me.

It was her body, her face, even her growls and grunts of pain... but I could tell that she had no control over what she was doing. I had seen her eyes, pools of sky blue, pleading with me. Her eyes were the only part of _that_ Clarke which actually belonged to the Sky Princess.

Indra had wanted to kill her. I had gathered as much from the glares she was giving Clarke, and she had said as much when I collected the bowl of water from her. But she did not understand what it was like to carry another persons soul within you, she does not understand how deep my feelings for the woman go. No one understands, except perhaps Clarke.

I have to protect my SkaiPrisa now more than ever before. I have told her everything, but I do no know how that will affect her. Still it is better than losing her, it is better than her being in the dark.

We must find a way to remove the Spirit from her body. Heda has only ever passed on the Spirit through death... but perhaps Titus will know of another way. I have to find another way...

I smile as we ride side by side. I recognize the small swell of bright warmth around my heart, even if I am no longer familiar with the sensation. It is an intoxicating mixture of love and _hope._ I smile because I know Clarke is the reason that it is there. This girl, with hair like sunshine and eyes akin to the sky she fell from, was changing me... and I found that I didn't mind in the least.

 

The forest was too quiet in the split second before it was torn apart by the cracking of gunfire. I watched as bullets hit Clarke's body, the blonde didn't even flinch, looking around for the source of the noise. I almost laughed, she did not even realize she had been shot.

I caught her when she tried and failed to dismount, her body recognizing her injuries even if her mind did not. Two of the Skaikru had armed themselves with Clarke's own rifles and were providing cover for my warriors to get to safety. Calling out, I ordered a protective circle around me and Clarke as I checked to ensure she would not immediately perish when I moved her.

It was not until I had dragged her into the treeline away from the fight, that my warriors returned to the battle.

I propped her against a tree and after reassuring her I would come back, I went to aid my people. This woman seemed determined to get injured, like she was challenging death itself. At least she seems to be winning, I thought as my sword slid free of its sheath.

 


	11. Chapter 11

I had asked Clarke to help me deliver the plan to the clans. It was a risky move due to their distrust of the Skaikru leader, but it was also strategic. Clarke needed to continue to prove that she was a leader in her own right, that she could strategize war as well as any of my own people.

  
Not to mention, there were certain aspects of this plan that I did not fully understand. This way I did not look like a fool when I inevitably got something wrong. This had been the argument that had convinced Clarke in the first place. Well, that and the uncharacteristic pout I had given her that sent her into a fit of glorious giggles.

  
I knew that they would take some convincing, but I did not expect that Titus would so blatantly challenge my authority, especially in front of my Coalition.

  
I could not help the anger that steadily bubbled within me, starting in my gut and working up so that once he had said his piece, I could taste acid in my mouth. How dare he. And not only had he insulted me, but he had insulted Clarke directly, and somehow that was worse. It was not his job to approve my decisions, he was only an adviser, a fact he would do well to remember.

 

It was only once I had slammed my bedroom door, shaking the very walls with the force, that I realized I had thrown a tantrum. Heda was meant to be calm, solid, unfazed and unreachable, only angered by the danger or injustice to her people.

Leaning against my door, I sank to the floor and buried my face in my hands. And even worse than my embarrassment at being challenged, I had left Clarke all alone in that war council. I had pledged to myself that I would keep her safe and I had left her in a room of angered clan leaders.

  
I groaned as I hit my head against the wooden door. But Clarke was strong, I admitted guiltily to myself. If she knew that I was worrying for her safety among her supposed allies, she would be furious. And rightly so. She deserved better than me assuming her weak, no matter how good the intention behind the thought. It was so very difficult to ignore that protective instinct that had been instilled in me from the moment my night blood had been discovered.

  
I had to do better.

  
I heard the faint sound of the throne room doors opening and closing down the hall. Spinning quickly I inched my own door open enough to catch a glimpse of blonde hair. Getting to my feet I pounced out when she reached the corner, pulling Clarke into my chambers and closing the door softly.


	12. Chapter 12

“Hope can't be false, Lexa. It's either there or it isn't.”

Clarke's parting statement rang in my ears as though echoing through tunnels. I had hurt her, what was worse was that I had meant to. Of course she would want to try and heal the _Rippa's_ , she wanted to save everyone, all the time.

But this time she could not. There was no way to save those who had been reaped. I froze, halfway through unscrewing my tin of kohl...

Until Clarke had came crashing in with a way into the mountain.

I took the lid off the tin and walked to the sliver of mirror by the basin. Dipping my fingers into the black paste, I started to shade around my eyes.

Clarke was always finding a way. She saw the problem and did not stop until she could also see a solution. She found a way to defeat an army of 300 while she was trapped in an oversized metal box. She had stood her ground against twelve hostile men and women for the chance to grant her people a reprieve. Clarke astonished me every day with what she was capable of.

And when she had told me she may be capable of performing a miracle, I had shot her down. I had spat on everything she had done up to this point. She was asking for a little bit of faith, trust, if not in what she was claiming, then in the woman herself. And I had proclaimed in no uncertain terms that I would not.

I looked into my now completed mask. I had designed it so that it would show my strength, tell others that they should fear me because I will leave the battle field wearing their blood. I had not tried to balance two lives since Costia, and I was starting to wonder if I even could.

A deep breath stopped the tears that had started to form in my eyes and I turned away from my reflection before I could think further on the blonde Sky Princess. I buckled my pauldron into place and took my sword from the back of the throne where it had been hanging.

My people needed me to be strong. Choosing to kill the _Rippa's_ is what is best for them... they do not need to suffer further. If Clarke is right, and hope is either present or it is not, then I choose to withhold that hope, I choose to let my people sleep soundly this night.

I bare it, so they do not have to.

 


	13. Chapter 13

I crashed through the trees as fast as I could, not caring what trail I left in my wake. My knuckles stung in the night air and my lungs screamed for the oxygen they could not get around my sobs. My muscles protested but I couldn't stop, I had to keep going. I needed to chose the most challenging path so that I did not have time to think. If I stopped to think I would not be able to bare it.

I had attacked her ruthlessly. My anger had consumed me and I had justified it by telling myself that she was not in control, that the _Spirit_ within her wanted me dead. And she had come back to herself, but I had kept going. Some part of me had noticed that she was no longer fighting back, but I kept going anyway. How long had she lain there, hoping my next strike would be the one to end her life? What had I done?

There was a break in the trees, a small creak gurgling through its chosen path, struggling in the summer months to stay alive. I fell to my knees, the wind blowing gently, cooling the tear tracks running through my war paint. I lifted my shaking hands up, barely able to see them in the darkness, not because of the light I realized with a gut-wrenching lurch, but because they were coated in both mine and Clarke's Night Blood.

My breath hitched and my tears started anew. Bending down I lowered my trembling hands into the running water, rubbing furiously at my skin, trying to dig the blood out from under my nails. The cool water froze my hands, but still I rubbed, wanting every last bit of Clarke's blood washed from my hands.

Clarke... My Clarke. She was the Princess who fell from the sky. She had a heart of purest gold, would help anyone whether they be enemy or foe. Her beauty was outmatched only by her ability to love. Why had I thought that I could ask such a soul to stand by as I killed men she believed she could rescue? Why had I thought she would listen to me when I told her not to help them?

That was not who Clarke was... She would always try to do what she thought was right, what she thought was best, no matter the consequences. I loved her because of her strength, her iron will, her unwavering heart.

My grief had clouded my mind. I was so focused on the man I had been forced to kill, the man that could never be saved. I did not want to believe that she could save anyone. I did not want to wonder if I could have saved him, if my father could have been brought back. I was not even angry at Clarke, I was angry at myself.

She would never forgive me...

I laughed at the thought. No, that was wrong, of course she would forgive me, that is what Clarke does. I did not deserve to be forgiven though. I could not let her forgive me... I would never forgive myself.

The last image of Clarke's face; bloodied, bruised and swollen, was branded onto the back of my eyelids. I was a trained killer, all I was good at was war and destruction. Clarke deserved so much more, she deserved peace.

It was time my ways changed. Words are weapons just as surely as my blade and it is time to be worthy of the love Clarke so freely gives to me. My SkaiPrisa will never again feel the pain she did this night... Never again.

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. I think this will be the last chapter on this work. If your following the main story, our girls have gone their separate ways and quite frankly, if i write a sequel i would prefer for Lexa's life to be something you all discover.
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who has so loyally followed my posts, and to everyone who has just happened across them. :)

She was as protected as she was going to get without me assigning a whole group of burly warriors to stand around her in a circle. I had entertained the idea for about half a second before deciding she would never let it happen.

I really needed to work on my persuasive techniques, a good leader should be able to talk anyone into anything, but it was as though Clarke were immune to it. She would look at the facts and make up her mind, after that there was no hope of changing it. As I admired her new attire, I wondered if there was such thing as having too much spirit.

She was dressed in a deep blue long sleeved shirt and her new armor, all made to fit her perfectly, hugging every curve. I especially loved the vambraces, my own design. Her sword hung at her right hip, at first it had looked strange, but the look had grown on me. She wore sturdy boots that reached up her calves and concealed new, slim line daggers in hidden sheathes. And finally, I had forced her into one of my own leather coats, it reached halfway down her calves and was a little on the heavy side, but it was the kind of thing that had save my life before.

Just before sun set I had sat her down, kneeling behind her and combing my fingers through her golden curls. She had hummed in contentment and my heart had melted seeing her so at peace, even if only for a moment. I made two thin braids, joining them in the back and leaving most of her hair loose. Clarke didn't know it, but her golden hair was a part of her blossoming legend, if people could recognize her, they would fight harder in her presence.

I lit the signal fire even as the ground shook beneath us, the others lighting in seconds. Then we began our march, Clarke, the ruler of life and death, marching by my side. That was what they were whispering at least, that was the reputation my beautiful princess had earned, the power people would forever think she held... And perhaps she did, I had seen the results of her decisions the same as everyone else, and I had to admit, it looked as though Clarke commanded death.

 

I watched her walk away, my throat so tight I could barely muster more than a whisper;  
“May we meet again...” Her stride faltered for one step before she continued, disappearing into the trees.

I watched that spot for countless minutes, my blood like ice in my veins. For once my mind was blank, my heart was empty, my muscles were loose.

Before I knew what I was doing I turned away from the mountain, away from my SkaiPrisa, and took a step toward Polis. Then another, and a third, and before long my legs carried me without thought.

It was worse than if my heart had broken, it was worse then being angry or depressed... I felt nothing, absolutely nothing. It was as though she had torn my heart right from my chest and was carrying it with her.

And why should she not? I thought as I trekked through the forest. It was hers, my heart had belonged to Clarke from that very first kiss.

I replayed each memory in my mind. I watched every up and down we had experienced together, holding each one close, letting them warm me when my heart could not. I would not exchange these memories for anything in the world. It wasn't like when I lost Costia, then it had hurt to think of her. No, this time Clarke still held my heart within hers, I could not hurt because I was still with her, every step, every breath belonged to Klark...

 

Ai hodness, ai SkaiPrisa, ai Wanheda...

I smiled as I entered my city, she would come back to me... She had to.


End file.
